


Two Fools For a Slice of Living

by sootnose



Series: The Wheel of Fortune, Upright [1]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Gender-Neutral Apprentice (The Arcana), Other, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:41:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27317929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sootnose/pseuds/sootnose
Summary: Various shenanigans with a lucky apprentice and a former count.
Relationships: Apprentice/Lucio (The Arcana)
Series: The Wheel of Fortune, Upright [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1994614
Kudos: 19





	1. Chocolate Crunch Cakes

Lucio looks a mess after all the crying and sweating at the Lazaret. You don’t feel much better. The strain on your arms from rowing is a welcome distraction, despite only making you sweatier. It’s almost a relief that Lucio is just as, if not more disheveled.

You take off your wet shoes and hose as soon as you’re in your store. You have no interest in stewing in them any longer. You set the hose and shoes to dry as best as you can, though the hose will need a wash later.

You shoo Lucio off your wares, and after the conversation on your temporary death, you’re almost grateful when Lucio finds he’s hungry and races up to the kitchen. It probably should upset you more, but you’re surprisingly on terms with the knowledge you died. It’s the rest of it that nags at you. Asra’s is the first face you remember. He’s bound to know more. You don’t look forward to the conversation, though you want to know.

Lucio digs around in your pantry and finds enough ingredients that he decides it’s time to fulfill his earlier craving for cookies. You roll your sleeves and approach, questioning him on his baking skills. It comes as little surprise to you that he’s never baked cookies. You can’t say you remember having baked them often, either. You baked some with Asra once, but that was a while ago.

While Lucio looks for a bowl, you grab the weirder ingredients he’d picked out of your pantry and shove them back where they belong. You have no interest in eating mint-cinnamon-garlic-mushroom abominations, thank-you-very-much.

While your attention was elsewhere, Lucio gave up on the bowl and decided that a teapot would be an acceptable substitute. You rush to grab the bag of flour from his hands, but enough falls into the teapot and table to puff up as a cloud around the two of you.

You set the bag of flour down and suggest that you deal with the ingredients while he gets the oven going.

... It turns out Lucio has evidently shirked any and all kitchen duties over his 40-or-so years of life. Or maybe all the cooking he’s done has been grilling things on sticks.

You watch incredulously as he pokes the oven, and when nothing happens, kicks it. You should probably give him advice, but he didn’t ask, so you’ll let him deal on his own until he does.

Your stove salamander, awakened by the racket, demonstrates his displeasure by a cough of sparks and smoke, squeaking irritably.

“What was that?!” Lucio exclaims.

Mildly, you inform him that he’s your stove salamander and suggest Lucio introduce himself to the salamander. Lucio exclaims his displeasure at the idea, worried about the sparks. You explain that he probably frightened the salamander and suggest apologizing.

Reluctantly, Lucio does as he’s told. You can’t help the twinge of fondness at his apology, not to mention when he even offers the salamander a cookie once they’re done. The salamander climbs onto Lucio’s hand, and the man exclaims about how _adorable_ he is. You laugh at that — the stove salamander is such an everyday thing for you, you’d never paused to coo over it.

The salamander curls up in Lucio’s hands and you decide they’re well enough acquainted to start the fire.

“Do I have to? Can we just... you know... hang out for a bit?” Lucio asks in response. You chuckle and plant a kiss on his forehead. You suppose the two of them will survive without being watched from now on.

“Sure. I’ll get the cookie dough started.”

You wash your hands and dig out a wooden bowl to set on the counter, gazing over the ingredients. Flour, sugar, cinnamon, mint, chocolate... You need something liquidy, something to bind the ingredients together. You browse the kitchen, your eyes landing on a glass bottle of grapeseed oil. That should work...

You find measuring cups to measure out some oil and an equal amount of sifted sugar. You scrape together some white sugar from the drawer of the sugarloaf box but need some more. You grind cheaper brown sugar for that purpose. You whisk the oil and sugar together, then lift the whisk, assessing the consistency and appearance. Egg. It needs egg. You’re pretty sure the cookies you baked with Asra had egg in them, too, so you fetch a couple of eggs and break one into the mixture. You’re about to crack in the second one when Lucio stands up and peeks over your shoulder, still holding the stove salamander, and starts asking if you’re adding in chocolate. You pause. He rattles on, listing a series of sweet ingredients you are _definitely_ not putting all into the batter. You stare at the sugar-oil mixture with the sad single egg sitting on top. You could have replaced some sugar with honey to save on the expenditure, now that you think of it, but it’s too late now.

You set down the second egg and rub your forehead at the slight twinge of an impending headache, and explain that it’ll be better to add other flavours, too, for balance.

He exclaims in surprise as if the mere suggestion of balancing out the sweetness is an equal offense to insulting his dogs. You can’t help but give him a flat, somewhat disbelieving look. But then, this is Lucio. You shake your head with a wry smile.

“Yeah. The cookies will taste better with some salt and spice.”

That’s enough permission for Lucio to steal a piece of chocolate, and with a laugh, you shoo him off to get the oven started.

Chocolate chip cookies...? You pick up the egg and glance again at the mixture already in the bowl. You look around, locating your pets’ bowls in the kitchen corner. You crack the eggshell slightly and walk over, carefully breaking the shell open and pouring the egg white into Mordechai’s bowl while switching the yolk between the shell halves, then dump the yolk into the batter and mix it all together.

“Mordechai! Food!” You call. The sound of four pairs of feet races up the stairs, first a black-and-white tuxedo cat, after whom a skewbald winged hare bounds up. You’re surprised they were both home and not seeking food on the streets since you had been away.

“What is that?!” Lucio exclaims, standing up from where he’d been watching the stove salamander set fire to the wood in the oven.

You pause your whisking and follow Lucio’s gaze. “Oh! She’s a skvader. Her name is Vaania.” You sigh and grab a dandelion root to drop into Vaania’s bowl so that she stops trying to eat the egg with Mordechai. She has some hay available, but you always have to give her something fancier when feeding Mordechai.

Lucio’s eyes widen further. “I haven’t seen one in forever”, he says, almost stricken.

You raise your brows. “You’ve seen them before?”

Lucio frowns. “There were some in the south.”

Huh. Well. All you know is what Asra has told you: She is a skvader, a hare-grouse; her name is Vaania; and she is yours. You haven’t thought to question further, since Vaania and Mordechai have been around for as long as you can remember, such as it is. Still, as far as you know, Vaania is the only skvader you’ve ever seen.

You shake your head and concentrate back on the dough. You add in salt, cinnamon and cayenne pepper, sift in the flour and pause to go over the ingredients in your head. It still needs a leaven, that’s right. You add some hartshorn salt and mix the batter, finally adding in the chopped chocolate.

After washing his hands, Lucio helps you roll the dough into balls onto a baking sheet and, finally, you can sit down and just wait for the cookies to bake. You aren’t entirely sure how long you should bake these cookies, but you set up a reminder spell on a sand timer so that you don’t forget to check on them.

At first, the ammonia of the hartshorn overpowers the scent of the baking cookies, but eventually, it dissipates and all that is left is the delicious aroma of baked goods. You’re still not confident, though. You didn’t have a recipe, the measurements could be off...

Mordechai has not left the kitchen since he arrived. He sits like a sphinx on the windowsill, judgmentally watching as Vaania flops on her back at Lucio’s feet.

You check up on the cookies after a few moments, but they still look like they could afford to bake some more, so you leave them for longer despite Lucio’s demanding questioning on whether they’re ready yet.

“Almost”, you say and direct his attention to Vaania instead, showing him how you can pet the skvader with your foot and she’ll just be happy as a clam at high tide, the silly thing. It’s Mordechai, the predator, who is more reserved between the two of them. You’d think a hare-grouse would be more fearful, but then judging by her pied body, she must be from a domesticated lineage.


	2. More Mothers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Apprentice finally feels ready to bring their birth family up to speed.

"Asra. Do you still have my parents' address?"

Concern flits over Asra's face in the water. "Are you sure?"

You close your eyes and exhale. "Yes. I think it's high time they find out what really happened. Or... well, maybe a slightly embellished story. I'm... Not sure I want to get into my _death_ with them."

Finding the right house is easier than you expect. Hjalle may be large, but once you get into the right neighbourhood, you only need to ask for your parents to be directed to the correct house. 

You knock on the door. After a moment, the door opens. A stout woman with greying hair looks up at you. You are a bit speechless.

She exclaims your name, eyes wide. "I sure didn't expect you to show up."

You open and close your mouth a couple of times. "I-I didn't plan my visit. It was a bit of an ex tempore thing."

"Of course. Well, come in then", the woman says wryly. Her easy acceptance throws you off. You suppose you haven't changed that much.

You note that the woman wears no shoes and that there are a few pairs by the door, so you toe off your boots.

"And who's this... man?" she asks, in a way that sounds like she meant to say 'young man' but changed her mind.

"Um. This is Lucio." A beat. Both Lucio and the woman watch you expectantly. "... My significant other."

Lucio offers his hand to the woman, and they shake hands. "Lucio... Morgasson", he says, sounding both vexed and like he's giving in as he tacks on the matronymic. You wonder if he'd prefer to introduce himself with _your_ surname.

"Yvanna." She pauses, then points at Lucio. "Lucio. Not 'Count Lucio'? Aren't you a bit old for them?"

Lucio flushes and frees his hand from Yvanna's firm grip. "Former Count", he corrects, then glances at how you stare at Yvanna, scandalised, and dares to laugh. "So this is where you get your bluntness."

Your mouth moves silently as you glance between Yvanna and Lucio. You cast your hands toward the heavens. "I'm almost thirty! I'm old enough for him!"

Yvanna smirks. "So you say", she teases and heads into the kitchen. Lucio takes off his boots, leaving himself an inch or three shorter, and together you follow Yvanna. She places some bread and toppings on the table. 

"Tea? Coffee?" she asks Lucio.

"Do you have hot chocolate?" Lucio asks.

Yvanna nods. "Ahead of you." She has a pot on the stove and is adding in cocoa powder and sugar. "I assume you still prefer hot chocolate, too", she says, looking at you. You nod, vaguely surprised that she would know, but then, of course she would.

She finishes the hot chocolate and pours it into two mugs, making tea for herself.

"Well, how have you been? The shop still standing?"

"Y-yeah", you say. "Asra is looking after it at the moment."

You mix your hot chocolate, watching the whirlpool that forms in the centre. You take a deep breath and meet Yvanna's eyes. "I... There's..." You falter, dropping your gaze with a frown. Your thoughts are a mess.

Lucio glances between the two of you and clears his throat. "Yvanna, you knew about the red plague, right?"

Yvanna frowns. "Of course. My child was in the middle of it."

"Ah... I did send you a letter about it." Asra had saved all the letters from your family members that had arrived while you were... either at the Lazaret or already dead. He had kept them and any subsequent letters secret while you had not been well enough to respond. He had even written letters in response, impersonating you, to keep your family in the dark.

You aren't quite sure how you feel about it. Asra said you weren't close with your family. Seeing as you lived in Vesuvia while they lived in Hjalle, and the letters that had arrived in three years weren't numerous, you don't have a hard time believing it.

You pick the edges of your nails. "But, um... I contracted it."

Yvanna startles. "What? You never mentioned anything about that!"

You bite your lip. "There's a reason for that. I was cured, but by then I was so ill that... I lost my memories. I... I don't remember you."

Yvanna stares in silence, her teaspoon clinking on the saucer as she sets it down.

"The letters you received, those were Asra. He was taking care of me. He didn't want to risk telling you, because—"

Yvanna leans back and crosses her arms. "Do go on."

You lick your lips. "Because I kept becoming catatonic if I remembered things! He had to keep everything secret from me and be really careful, and sometimes something would trigger my memories anyway and he'd have to fix it. It took three years for me to be well enough that I could find out things about my past without getting horrible headaches!"

"Hm."

You don't think she believes you. "Look, the only things I know about you or the rest of my family is what Asra told me or what I read from the letters from you. He saved them all and gave them to me when I was well enough."

Yvanna sighs. "I guess that would explain why your letters became kind of weird after the plague was over."

You raise your brows. "Weird, how?"

Yvanna snorts. "You were always rambly and liked to talk about weird things you'd learnt. The newer letters were succinct."

"I guess Asra didn't have any of my letters as examples of how I write." You sip the hot chocolate and end up draining half the mug's contents.

A silence falls, Yvanna mulling over this new knowledge.

Lucio fidgets. "Well, think about the upside! If you ever failed them, you can do better now!"

Yvanna hmphs and glances between Lucio and you. "So, how did the _former_ Count of Vesuvia end up dating my child?"

Lucio and you freeze. Shit. You didn't think to plan a less freaky backstory for that than 'Lucio died and you helped him come back to life, oh, and also, we may or may not have saved the entire world.'

You try to think on your feet. "Lucio and Nadia divorced. Their"—you glance at Lucio, who, entirely unhelpfully, looks interested in what you're going to say—"their marriage wasn't the best."

Yvanna raises a brow. "Really."

Lucio grins, unabashed. "It was always more of a work relationship than a love relationship. And _we_ work much better", Lucio says, reaching to wrap an arm around your shoulders and plants a kiss at the top of your cheek.

You tense, casting a self-conscious glance at Yvanna, but Lucio places another kiss on your temple, and you wedge a hand between your face and his. "Okay, okay, enough", you laugh as you push him back.

Lucio pouts, takes your hand and sneaks one more kiss on the back of it before settling, looking all too pleased with himself.

You exhale empathetically, trying to get back on track. "Anyway! We've been doing some adventuring, and, well... Nadia stayed to run the city."

"Being Count was boring anyway", Lucio says.

Yvanna barks a dry laugh. "So that's why you threw so many parties and had all those Coliseum fights going on?"

Lucio avoids both your eyes, pursing his lips. "... Yes."

A shiver runs down your spine. One of The Devil's distractions had placed you in the Coliseum, facing off against Lucio's strangely familiar champion. All the while, Lucio, his memories of you sealed away, cheered for your death. It is still your least favourite memory involving him, coloured by despair and fear for your life.

It was a necessary experience to drive home who Lucio had been.

"Figures. Hopefully the city is being run better now than it was when I stayed there", Yvanna responds to Lucio.

Lucio makes a complex expression somewhere in the ballpark of an offended sneer.

You jump in. "Nadia is working on repairs to and optimisation of the infrastructure. She's reformed the justice system and ensures food safety for the citizens."

"That does sound better."

Lucio crosses his arms, huffing through his nose. You scoot closer to Lucio on the bench and bump your shoulder against his, giving him a significant look.

Lucio offers you a strained smile and turns to Yvanna. "Noddy and I made a d... agreed. She wants to take care of the city, and I want to travel with my amazing hotshot magician", he says, flashing you a quick grin, "so it's a win-win. And Noddy _is_ better at taking care of Vesuvia", he admits.

It's hard to argue with the results. Repairs to the Flooded District are well underway. The public opinion toward Countess Nadia is favourable. Meanwhile, Lucio has received some rather scathing reviews from people in the city. Now, without the fear of retribution, they dare to speak to him more candidly.

Yvanna watches the two of you, and you can't help but feel she must be judging you. Her expression isn't judgemental, so you aren't sure where the feeling comes from. Perhaps it's a memory of a feeling.

You clear your throat, pulling your hot chocolate in front of you rather than putting a polite distance between Lucio and yourself. "I was wondering, have I ever been here before? In this house, I mean?"


	3. Thought Experiment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Apprentice makes a thought experiment that gets a bit too deep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not edited at all, I'll edit later, now I just wanna get it out.

"Lucio?"

Lucio makes a sleepy noise and shifts a little next to me.

"None of this would have happened if I hadn't lost my memories."

Lucio lifts himself up on his elbows. "What do you mean?"

"I don't think I could've loved you if I'd remembered everything", I say.

Lucio's breath hitches.

You reach a hand up to him, craning your neck to look at him upside down.

"I'm just thinking... I don't think I would have given you a chance. What I know now..." You sit up and turn to him. "And it's not just that. I'd lived here years already. I'd seen what you were like, heard the townspeople talk. I was with Asra, and he hated you. There would've been so many strikes against you already, I'd never have thought you'd ever even want to be anything else. Or I'd have gone into it _trying_ to change you. You'd..." You hiss a breath through your teeth. "And you'd never have loved me either. Or... I don't know, but it'd have been... all wrong."

Lucio stares at you, mouth agape. You wait for him to say something. The silence stretches, and he closes his mouth and frowns to himself. You still don't know what more to say, though there must be more to say.

Lucio reaches for you and cups your cheek, stroking his thumb over the top of it before letting his hand fall, the touch of his fingertips lingering in their wake. "I very well might've", he says and pulls his arm back to support himself, pensive. "I thought about it a lot early on. I already didn't want to think too closely about all of that stuff, and then I got scared that the next thing you found out would make you hate me." He closes his eyes and leans his head back. "I didn't want to tell you anything... But that wouldn't have been fair to you." He raises his head and looks you in the eye, then turns his gaze away and frowns. "And you found everything out even if I _didn't_ tell you."

You think back to it. It was... horrible. By the time you learned about Asra's family... It should've been a deal breaker. Your best friend had lost his family and been forced to raise himself on the streets because of Lucio. But you didn't really get the chance to let it sink in then... Maybe the patricide should've been a deal breaker too, but it wasn't personal the way his hurting Asra was. And... by then you'd already gotten attached. You'd already seen something in Lucio that made you want to help him do better, like he said he wanted to.

That time... between speaking with Lucio for the first time and finally fixing what the Devil had broken... It had been a series of Lucio having to face his past and you having to face just who the hell you were, frankly, quite swiftly tying your heart to. And there had been _so much_.

"A different version of me wouldn't have cared", you say. "And that's... kind of a terrifying thought."

Lucio's expression is unusually solemn. He sits up and wraps his arms around your huddled form. "Well, neither of us would know any better, right? I've got this version of you and you've got me. That fake other version of you is just an idea. We're real."

You laugh a little. "Oh, Void, why am I this upset about a thought experiment?"

Lucio kisses your temple. "You should've told me before you got that deep into your head. I'd have distracted you."

You sigh, straighten your back and spread your hands. "Alright. I'm ready to be _hella_ distracted, so hit me with the best you've got."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to note this has nothing to do with different _routes_ in the game. It's a "what if I had my memories", not "what if I made a different choice" -- I may eventually write a ficlet where Apprentice gets to face a very real instance of having made different _choices_ , and, well... That'd be a wholly different experience.


	4. Boat Ex Machina

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a boat at the Lazaret. Somehow, it's still more or less afloat. Somehow, you get it into working order.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That bleeding boat got on my nerves so much. All of this could have been skimmed over in a few lines, but I have a bad habit of going into excruciating detail, so... Let's not put it to waste. Enjoy???

"Well, it's a boat."

Lucio and you stand on the tilted pier, looking down on the boat that looks more like a bathtub with the amount of water in it. One that's been left outside for a long time, judging by the decayed leaf matter crusting the edges of the water.

"I didn't see it properly, I was kind of busy being dragged around by chains!" Lucio is quick to defend himself.

You meet his eyes. "An abandoned boat out here, still in working order, that would've been a _miracle_. It's okay, Lucio."

You gaze down at the boat again and frown. Its original owner probably never left the island. So, it remained. "It's still floating, though, somehow." Kneeling on the pier, you reach for one of the oars in the boat. The waterlogged thing is heavier than you expect, and you have to drag it closer to lift it safely with both arms.

"What are you doing?" Lucio asks.

"We'll see."

You slide your fingers down the loom until you reach the blade of the oar. The part of the oar that has been submerged in water is slimy, and though the very surface of the wood gives a little under your nails, even the thinnest part of the blade doesn't break when you try to bend it. Lucio switches from foot to foot, and you glance at him over the blade of the oar.

"You know, there's a chance this could work." You stand up, grab the loom and whack the oar against the edge of the pier, first lightly, then harder. Closer examination only reveals small dents, but otherwise, the construction of the oar continues to be sound.

"Alright, then", you say and jab haphazardly at the bottom of the boat with the oar. The water in it sloshes as you agitate it with your poking, but there doesn't seem to be any other effect.

Lucio paces behind you, arms crossed. He mutters something about humouring him under his breath.

You cast him a look, but for once let his muttering stand. You crouch and reach to scoop the leaves and sludge off the edges of the water in the boat, flinging it overboard. With the worst of the stuff out, you dip a finger in the water.

You could try to call Asra for help. Maybe you could reach him through the water, like that time at the fountain.

You'd rather give this boat thing a chance.

Ripples spread out from your finger, and under your will the water climbs up the edges of the boat, running into the wider body of water. The boat rises as it drains, though not by much. It must weigh a ton.

You sit on the edge of a pier and lower a foot into the boat, feeling the bottom. It's slimy, slippery, but doesn't give under a light press. Lucio's pacing stops and he approaches but doesn't comment. Carefully, arms braced on the edge of the pier, you put weight on your foot. Still holding. You retreat and stand up.

"Give me a hand?" You ask, offering him your hands. "I want to test if it holds, and I'd rather not get more wet."

Lucio rests his hands on your arms. "I think I should test it", he says, fiddling with the loose fabric of your sleeves.

You raise your brows. Is he worried about you? You glance back at the slimy, waterlogged boat. It's really not that bad, but he's doing the heroic schtick. It's kind of sweet, despite everything.

"I think you're still stronger than me, so I think it would be better if you kept me from falling than the other way around", you explain. "Besides, my shoes _are_ already wet."

Lucio doesn't argue further. "Okay." He holds onto your arms and you hold onto his as you step one foot off the edge of the pier and feel out for the bottom of the boat. You take a moment to find a sturdy foothold before slowly lowering your weight back. You stand in the boat, now. You push off the bottom and land back with a heavy thud.

Lucio's hands squeeze your arms tighter, and he pulls you halfway back to the pier. "Don't do that!" he exclaims. You look back at the boat. It only rocks a little after your hop.

"It's okay!" you grin, lean back and step both feet into the boat. The boat only rocks a little more as you shift your weight to your toes and back in another mini-hop. You extract one arm from Lucio's hold and take a step forward, then back up two. "Lucio, I think this boat is sailworthy! Look, it doesn't even leak."

It's true; there's no further moisture collecting on the bottom of the boat after you drove out what there was. It's still slimy and moist, but it's not breaking or sinking under your weight.

Lucio squints dubiously at the boat but loosens his hold when you let go of him. You crouch to the bottom of the boat and dig out a slimy bail from under one seat. The bail still scrapes a layer of slime off the bench surprisingly well. You smooth a hand over the bench and the surface dries under your hand. You repeat the treatment to the other bench and stand up, reaching for Lucio. "See? This is going to work. We'll get out of here just fine."

Lucio picks up the oar on the pier and pauses with it in his hands, staring at you. Then he smiles and for a split-second, you're afraid he's going to _jump_ into the boat, but he just hands you the oar. "You really are amazing."

You sit in silent confusion while Lucio tugs free the fibrous rope barely tying the boat to the pier. Lucio crouches on the edge of the pier and you grab it for stability while he shifts into the boat, rocking it a bit as he scoots to the other bench and sits.

With the oar in your hands you push the boat away from the pier, away from the Lazaret, and into the open water of the channel between the island and the city.


End file.
